


We're not really strangers

by SummerStruck



Category: Gossip Girl (TV 2007)
Genre: F/M, High School
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:54:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28010463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SummerStruck/pseuds/SummerStruck
Relationships: Dan Humphrey/Blair Waldorf
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	1. Strangers in the Night.

Strangers in the Night.

Dangling chandeliers breathing brightly upon a polished floor. An Italian art piece stretches across the ceiling and it's accompanied by a ceiling junction that may have well been carved out by Michelangelo himself. Champagne flows around the waltzing room like water down a stream and ideas of etiquette are slowly losing its ground among these elitists. Although it's my first time at a ballroom dance I must admit it's shown itself to be better than I dared to anticipate.

Okay, I'm not actually an invitee of the dance, and the fact that I'm walking around the room with a silver platter tells you more than you need to know. But this rented tuxedo's granted me a few looks through the masks of girls which I imagine to be pretty solely because they have the money to be. My platter which was just moments ago filled with champagne glasses is now emptied out and there's no incentive within me to go and refill. Something's saying ditch the platter, steal a mask, find a girl and dance the working hours away. I'm not sure whether this voice just has a way with words but it's criminally convincing. My platter goes discretely behind a hanging cream table cloth and under a snack table. A man rushes to the exit doors, chasing after a crying woman, but I catch him just in time. If he's leaving then there'd be no need for him to have a mask on and that's exactly what I say to him. He looks at me as if to say my problem means absolutely nothing in comparison to the dilemma I've just interrupted him from but after the disgust falls from his face, a black mask with silver linings falls into my hands and the man vanishes. I fit the mask against my face quickly before my supervisor Jacob possibly sees me and within seconds I'm apart of the grandeur. Oh, Brooklyn would be proud!

The night's running away from me though so I need to find a dance partner, quickly. I, like an amateur, step onto the dance floor in hopes of seeing a potential partnering-waltzer but it's clear after a few minutes that whoever's already on the floor is already waltzing with someone. But from my position I can see a girl sitting at a round table alone, and by the black dress she has on that's enraptured by these sparkles that reflect beautifully under the beaming chandeliers above, and by the way her autumn-leaf colored hair falls graciously against her pale shoulders, and even by her cherry coated lips, it's unfathomable to me that she's sitting by herself.

A friend of mine comes whistling past me with a silver platter above her head and I grab a champagne glass from it and turn my back and walk off before she notices who I am and what I'm doing. If there's one thing movies get horribly wrong all the time, it's the idea that a face mask that covers only your eyes is plausibly a good disguise. As I walk with the glass stirring at my fingertips, my eyes dart back to the place where the lonely girl was sitting. But she's not there anymore. In the moments after, I twist my body around multiple times as my eyes gaze around the room in search of this person. How could she have disappeared from this place so suddenly? Especially after I planned on downing that champagne to give me some sort of a confidence booster and then go and introduce myself to her. What is it with plans never going to plan? Out of pure frustration I down the glass anyway. Well, if that's not the person I'm supposed to dance with tonight, so be it. My eyes scan around again whilst I go stand in the room's corner. Next to me stands a vase with red roses in and it's admirably pleasing to look at. To my surprise it captures my attention for a solid moment and I'm hardly aware of my surroundings.

"Jay Gatsby found out how grotesque a rose was during his dying breath." Those words travel along an unfamiliar tongue but they enter my ears with immense grace.

I turn to identify the person and without any subtlety my lips corner up and a smile forms against my better judgment. Her dress is like that of a starry night, a dark surface with glimmers of brightness scattering around. Her hair, now on closer inspection, curls as wonderfully as a ballet ribbon. Her lips, the one thing my eyes struggle to dismiss, are more rosier, redder and appealing to admire than a rose itself. Her black feathery mask, although prominent, could not override the depths of those brown eyes in which an iota of her soul shows itself to me for the first time. I am in awe. In spite of my admiration though, I manage to form an utterance.

"It must be a good thing I'm not dying then."

She chuckles, "Do you usually gaze at things with such intensity?"

My throat catches at the realization that she's come to notice my staring and I swallow a lump before saying, "Human eyes are in love with beauty and we search for it in everything we look at, so I'm hardly able to help myself."

She takes a second to ponder over my words, "And are your eyes still searching?" She says with such softness.

I shake my head nervously and say, "No, not anymore." As I look at her.

A smile grips her face and she takes a step closer into my vicinity. She then holds her hand out to me, "Blair Cornelia Paige Waldorf."

It amazes me that she introduces herself with her full name. It must be a sign of upper-class culture so I do the same, "Daniel Randolph Jonah Humphrey," I say as I take her hand.

As I'm about to tell her what a pleasure it is to meet her, she places her left hand over the hand I'm using to greet her with and she clasps them together and before I notice what's happening, she pulls me toward the dance floor. Everything about her just screams confidence, from the way she speaks, to the way she walks, up until the way she looks at me. We get to the dance floor and I immediately know who's going to be the leader and who's going to be the follower. There should be hardly any surprises if she ends up twirling me around and catching me before I hit the ground. She pulls us together and her scent is the first thing I notice. I just know it's an expensive fragrance and it's making me want to nibble at her neck. Oh no. Now it's her neck I'm entranced by. It looks so smooth and delectable. She snaps me out of my high and starts moving our hands and feet in unison. We're dancing!

She guides our movements to the split second of the beat and I swear it's as though the entire room is now watching us. With every twist and turn we travel around the floor, our bodies repel and then they collide, but our eyes are unable to be torn apart. The song comes to an end and I dread the idea that I have to untie my fingers from hers, but just as my heart sinks at the loss of contact, a slower song plays and she drapes her hands warmly around my neck. And like the natural order of the world in which 1 precedes 2, my hands then instinctively move to the small of her back. How I've gotten to this point is all still a shock to me. As we slow dance, her lips part and she speaks again,

"Daniel Randolph Jonah Humphrey..." She says in a near whisper, "...that's an awfully long name don't you think?"

I chuckle before saying, "That's funny coming from Blair Cornelia Paige Waldorf."

She beams a naughty smile, "I'm kidding, I just wanted to see if you still remembered my name."

"Don't worry, I don't think I'll ever forget it."

"How can you be so sure?" Her eyes suddenly soften.

"If you could possibly see the way that I see you, you'd be sure too."

A smile that encompasses beauty forms across her face, "I wanna show you something." She says quickly and then grabs my hand.

She pulls me across the room towards the same corner we were at earlier and for a minute I can't help but laugh at how impulsive this complete stranger is but for some weird reason it feels oddly comforting. Her impulsiveness, not the fact that she's a stranger. We stop at the corner and she turns to me and grabs on my lapels. Our eyes dance for a second and I'm begging for her to kiss me. She doesn't. Instead she pushes her hand against the wall next to us and a small part of it opens up. This surely explains how she was able to disappear from the party without a trace and how she could sneak up on me by the rose vase earlier. She moves inside of the opening and pulls me in with her. If I thought I was in a movie before, this part of tonight's feeling way more cinematic than I could ever possibly imagine.

It's kind of dark as we step through the opening but the warmness of her hand and the eagerness in her stride makes it easy to trust her. We walk through the passageway until we reach a vintage wooden spiral staircase. She navigates me all the way up until we step right into a home library that's piled up with books. Letting go of my hand, she graces through the middle of the room as though she's taking the scenery in, but by the warm smile on her lips I know full well she's been here before.

"How did you even know about this place?" I let out a disbelieving laugh.

"It's my favorite room in the house." She replies.

For a second my mouth falls open and she laughs at the sight. I'm not too sure what to say to her. If this is her favorite room, then that means she lives in this gigantic mansion, which then means her parents are the ones who've hired me but instead I'm here, in their library, frolicking about with their daughter.

"I know you're a cater waiter..." She says it like it's taboo, "...and I also know you took that mask from the Captain but don't worry, I won't tell." A mischievous smirk falls on her face and I don't know whether to feel offended or relieved.

"So you're like all the other girls who've been staring at me tonight?" I shoot, more out of defensiveness than playfulness.

"Maybe, but unlike those other girls I'd say I've gotten my stares back." She winks and my heart pounds out my chest.

"Who's the Captain?" I then ask.

A hint of worry shows on her face but she says strongly, "As far as you're concerned Daniel Randolph Jonah Humphrey, the Captain is the guy whose mask you took."

"Correction..." I raise my index finger, "...the mask he gave me."

Her eyes roll, "Is correcting me going to be a common occurrence between us?"

"Will we be seeing more of each other after tonight for it to be a common occurrence?"

"If that's you assuring me that it will be, then I guess we won't be seeing more of each other, no." She chuckles.

"Is wit just another part of your tactics to charm me?"

"Another part of my tactics? And what other tactics might I have been using tonight, may I ask?"

I step a little closer to her, "Oh Blair Cornelia Paige Waldorf, please don't purposefully be obtuse..." I cup her check with my palm and four fingers and my thumb plays on her bottom lip, "...it's in the way you talk to me..." I gaze deeply into her eyes, "...it's in the way you look at me..." I bring my hand down to clasp it with hers, "...it's in the way you've intertwined our fingers whenever you've had the chance tonight."

She swallows hard and says, "You must be illiterate because you've read me all wrong!"

She unclasps our hands and pushes past me, but before she can move further than past my torso I grab her hand gently and pull her into me. I know I just pushed a pride a button of hers by pointing out those things. We're chest to chest now and her breaths are suddenly heavier than before. She's nervous and I can tell by the fact that she can't look me in my eyes anymore, but she doesn't move away. If I didn't just meet this girl I'd probably kiss her, I probably should kiss her, but there's something about her that makes me want to wait before I do.

"Then show me how to read you right." I say softly and the tension rises.

Her eyes stay downwards though and for a few seconds I feel like the biggest idiot for thinking that saying something romantic would be more romantic than a romantic kiss.

"Unfortunately, that's something I don't even know how to do myself, so I'm not sure I'll be of any assistance to you." She says and a hint of insecurity seeps through her broken voice.

In that moment I suddenly wonder who is the girl hiding behind this mask? Hiding behind these walls where she escapes from the ballroom parties? Hiding behind the faux confidence and the witty remarks? Knowing her name has now become far too little for me. There's gorgeous layers within these doe eyes and I want to unpack them as though I'm on a search for a beauty that's much deeper than meets the eye.

"Well if you can't show me, will you at least give me the chance to figure it out?" I basically plea to her.

She finally looks up and a small smile runs across her face, "Do I really have that much say in the matter or are you just asking to be polite?" She chuckles.

I laugh and say, "You can credit my parents for the good manners."

We laugh together for what feels like a blissful eternity and as the laughs die down again, our eyes dance for the umpteenth time tonight. This time she's the one with the intense look in her eyes. She brings her hand up to my cheek and strokes it for a hesitant second as though she's pondering over what to do next. My jaw clenches as I silently pray that she smashes her lips against mine. She then licks her lips and my breathing suddenly wavers because I feel it coming, but just as she moves her hand to the back of my neck to pull me towards her, the turn of a doorknob startles us both. I'm not sure how, but in a split second she points me toward the staircase and I blitz down it and run through the passage until I get to the secret opening. Within seconds I'm back at the ballroom party again.

My heart's still racing as I walk through the party but before I'm allowed the chance to gather myself, my friend from earlier that I took a champagne glass from catches eyes with me. These masks are honestly no help because she's now literally marching my way with the most pissed off face I've ever seen.

"Dan! Where the hell have you been? Jacob's been looking for you all night and I've had to serve drinks to your side of the venue as well." The girl screams.

"I'm sorry Vanessa. This guy ran out the party earlier and he gave me his mask so I thought what the hell? I am at a ballroom dance." I shrug my shoulders.

"You're so giving me your pay cut. And I'd love to see how you explain this to Jacob." Vanessa says.

"Don't worry about Jacob. The fact that his got 16 year olds serving champagne can cause him more trouble than he could ever threaten me with V. And yeah, the paycheck's all yours."

"I wasn't asking." She huffs.

"Anyway, I'm gonna head to the restroom quickly." I say and turn around before she protests.

Once I'm out of her sight I set my eyes upon looking for that certain lonely girl once again. But the party moves by in what seems like just mere minutes and when the clock hits midnight the hopes of seeing her again is suddenly trampled upon. I exit the mansion doors with a pit in my stomach. For the last parts of tonight I haven't seen her but what's more stressful is I'm not even sure who it was that came into the library while she was still in there. It could've been anyone really and I just left her there the same way I found her tonight - by herself. As I drive home the streetlights shine through my windscreen and it's reminding me of her shining eyes. As I step out the car I look above me and the stars are reminding me of her dress. A cold wind hits the back of my neck and suddenly I miss her warm hands that were draped around them for nearly half the night. I step into the loft and luckily my dad and sister are sleeping already. With the knowledge of only her name, Blair Cornelia Paige Waldorf, I go to bed that night and have the most restless sleep I've ever had. How a stranger has overrun all my thoughts is a question that I can't answer. But I swear, the look in her eyes tonight said: "We're not really strangers."


	2. Perfect Strangers

Perfect Strangers.

Today's the perfect day for a yearner such as myself. When I woke up this morning clouds were blanketing over a slippery city and my windows were all misted and frosty. A crying sky is just the thing I needed for this longing feeling within my chest. Don't be mistaken, I'm not heartbroken. I'm just wishing I had something concrete to hold onto about last night, like a kiss, or a number or even a goodbye. But there's none of those. There's only the vivid picture of events unfolded, words unspoken and lips untouched.

Maybe I'm reading into this wrongly. Wondering too much over the could've -been's instead of the what-had's. And the what-had-happened was beautiful. From reciprocal staring, to effortless dancing, to secret revealings, to wit-full flirting. Those particulates attribute to the makeup of a night some only dream of having. But the problem is I'm not dreaming of the night. I'm dreaming of her.

The 16 years of my life preceding last night were what I'd like to imagine as perfectly normal. But now my hands feel vacant, my neck feels colder, my smile feels fewer and I, on a whole, feel lesser. How does life become so suddenly empty? Before, I never needed anyone's fingers to be intertwined in mine. Or for anyone's arms to be draped around my neck. I'd have the cheek to even think my smiles were more wholesome before. And I surely never felt as though I was ever incomplete. But now? Oh, now is a funny story. Feels a bit like Capitalism to me. Almost as though life is selling me something I've been fine without but they're marketing it in such a way that makes me think I now need it. Oh, come on! I don't need it. What is it even? All it is, is a girl with an exceptionally long name, as myself, who has these deep brown eyes, as myself, who loves to joke around, as myself. But other than the bare and obvious fact that I've just realized that I do in fact need it because it has all these amazing things in common with me... I stand firm. I don't need it!

"What don't you need?" My dad asks and I nearly fly up into the ceiling. I didn't realize I was talking out loud.

"Gosh, Dad, ever heard of knocking before?"

"Gosh, Dan, ever heard of coming when I call?"

"What?" I furrow my eyebrows.

"I called you from the kitchen for the past five minutes telling you to come get your waffles. But it's okay, I see you're in the middle of an important conversation." My dad laughs and closes the door.

This is bad. Really bad. How can I start talking to myself? OUT LOUD. And on top of it be so consumed by my thoughts that I can't even hear when my Dad calls me for waffles? What did my mind not get about stranger danger last night? Why is my mind persisting on loving thy stranger? I need to find a way to get yesternight's debacle far, far away from my thoughts as soon as possible. It was just one night. How difficult could it be to forget one night?

I hop out of bed with a renewed sense of purpose. Operation 'forget the debacle' is underway. Walking into the kitchen I can already tell my dad and Jen were talking about me, or more truthfully, making fun of me, as both of them are trying, and failing terribly, to conceal their laughter.

"You guys look like you're going to poop in your pants. So let it go." I say with an embarrassed sigh as I mount onto a kitchen stool.

Without any sort of euphemism attached, my dad and Jen literally burst into laughter. I just stab my fork into a waffle and start eating it. I'm not sure I'll be hearing the end of this any time soon.

"Maybe he was talking to Cedrick, dad." Jenny says in the middle of her giggles.

"You know what, I think you might be onto something Jen." My dad says.

"Okay, okay. I was speaking to myself. So what? Einstein spoke himself." I say almost proudly.

The laughs finally die down and my dad says again, "I'm meeting an old friend at this café in Manhattan tonight. Will you guys be okay alone?"

Me and Jenny both look at each other. A friend? It doesn't take a genie to tell you that my parents are nearing a divorce but with no actual closure from neither my dad nor my mom, it kinda feels like Jen and I are just waiting for the penny to drop. But it's not like either of them have any decency to be subtle about it. We haven't seen my mom all summer and now my dad's already going on dates. By the look on Jenny's face I already know this isn't going to go down well.

"Who's the friend?" Jenny asks.

"Oh, just an old friend from my in-the-band days." My dad replies.

"So a groupie basically?" Jenny remarks.

"Hey! Watch your words Jen. She's an old friend okay. Nothing more, nothing less."

Jenny just rolls her eyes and I ask, "How long will you be gone?"

"Till late probably." My dad answers.

"Okay."

Breakfast ends in awkward silence after that and we all just make our ways to our own rooms. I'm not sure what reaction my dad expected from Jenny and sometimes I wish I had the guts to let my mouth run like she does. I also wish my dad could for once in his life just stop being so honest. He could've literally just said he's going out tonight or something that'll at least make us less suspicious about his whereabouts. Hell, he didn't even deny that he's meeting with a woman tonight. It seems like these teenage problems are just piling up for me right now and with the school year beginning on Monday it doesn't look like I'll be catching a break. That reminds me, I really need to catch up with my reading in that case. 9th grade I couldn't find a single minute to read because of the stupendously heavy workload I had so who knows if reading will even be an option in the 10th grade. And with all these catering jobs I've done over the summer, I haven't even gotten the chance to open a book, let alone read one. But now's my chance.

I scan my bookshelf for all the books I haven't read yet. Mmm, Wuthering-heights? - read it. The Unbearable Lightness of Being? - read it. To Kill a Mockingbird? - read it. The Great Gatsby? - I haven't read it, but for obvious reasons I'm hesitant to even touch it. I look at the book like it's cursed. I'm afraid if I do read this, I'll fall into an all-consuming thought process in which I perpetuate memories in my mind of a night I'm unwilling to mention. But now that I recall the unmentioned night, did that girl really just spoil this entire book for me? "Jay Gatsby found out how grotesque a rose was during his dying breath." She certainly did!

Upset by the spoiler, I grab the book and skip to the last few pages in order to see the ending. The last chapter is all so confusing and I'm not sure who all these characters are even so I page back a few pages and just before the end of chapter 8, the words that affirm what I so hoped not to be true was laid out in Black White for me and the rest of the world to see, "He must have looked up at an unfamiliar sky through frightening leaves and shivered as he found what a grotesque thing a rose is and how raw the sunlight was upon the scarcely created grass."

Well that's disappointing. I fall back against my bed and look at the ceiling. But then I realize I don't actually have anything better to do so I pick the book back up and read it. From the start this time. Completely oblivious to how the hours are running past me I end up reading the entire book and as I'm in the process of grasping everything I've just read, my dad steps into my room to let me know he's leaving. Is it evening already? I get up shortly afterwards to take a shower. Once I'm out of the shower and fully clothed, I step into the kitchen to make me something to eat but then Jenny comes storming out her room, through the passageway and out the front door before I can even stop her. I really need to work on my reaction time.

A few seconds after, I chase after her, but not before grabbing a coat and locking the loft behind me. I run down to the street and she's getting into a cab. Somehow I make it to the vehicle before it can drive off and I swing the door open. Protective brother mode has officially kicked in.

"What the fuck!" The cab driver yells.

"Jenny! What the hell are you doing?!" I shout too.

"Drive!" Jenny screams.

"Sir! Do. Not. Drive." My face straightens as I look at the cab driver.

I must not look very intimidating though because the guy actually starts driving. I jump into the back seat and close the door just in time but what comes next is an array of shouting coming from both the driver and Jenny that I can't really make out.

"SHUT UP!" I use every part of my throat to get those two words out. It works.

"Look, Sir, I know you're just doing your job but you've just helped a 14 year old girl runaway from home." I say again.

The driver's eyes widen but before he can say anything Jenny interjects, "I'm not running away from home you dweeb."

"Then what the hell are you doing?" My eyebrows furrow.

"I'm going to see who dad's on a date with." Jen replies.

"Oh. Well that's a whole lot worse than running away from home. Sir, could you please turn around and take us back."

"No! Don't listen to him driver. I'm the one paying for this trip."

"The girl does have a point." The driver looks at me in his rear view mirror.

I'm about to protest but Jenny interrupts me again, "Dan, please, just let me do this. You of all people should understand. Neither dad or mom has said anything and I just need to see it for myself."

There's hurt in her voice and that's what does it for me. We end up going to Manhattan and exiting the cab only to meet a problem we haven't thought about yet. Which Café is my dad at? Considering I go to , we decide to scout the Upper East Side first. It feels like days as we peep through a multitude of café windows but finally, after the 7th damn café, we spot my dad. He's sitting right at the back of this coffee shop with his body facing towards the window we're looking through, but opposite him sits a woman. Her back's facing us though so we can't see her face, but she's got this short blonde hair. Short blonde hair that my mother does not have. I look at Jenny and her entire face falls. I bring her into my chest and a flood of tears runs into my coat.

After a few minutes I grab her hand. In an attempt to calm her down we walk a few blocks back to one of the other cafés we passed earlier and go inside. The rain starts pouring down again as we sit at the window seats of the café that looks out at the wet streets. We both order hot chocolates but we hardly speak. I think Jenny's just trying to wrap her head around the reality of it all so I don't bother to make pointless conversation either. Soon our hot chocolates are brought to us. As I sip on mine and gaze out at the raindrops splitting against the tarmac, my eyes avert to a long black limousine pulling to the side of the curb. For a moment I'm confused but then I realize these sort of vehicles are a normality here in the Upper East Side. I look away again and refocus on the raindrops. There's something about the way they fall against the hard concrete surface and split into a million other droplets. It looks almost like stars glimmering in the night sky.

"Is that Blair Waldorf?" Jenny gasps.

My eyes immediately dart up and oh my god. It is her! My mouth literally falls open. So much for 'forgetting the debacle'. It was just a few hours ago when I was almost certain I would never see this girl again, but here she is, standing right outside. And she looks so cute in her coat and beanie. Beside her there's another person though. It's a woman, and by the heavy resemblance, I'm sure it's her mother. For a minute they both look up at the building above this café and then look at each other with sort of anxious eyes. And by the way they walk into the building it's like they're about to take a huge plunge. They probably walk into the buildings reception and that's when I lose sight of her. My mind comes back to my whereabouts again and I realize another thing. How the hell does Jenny know who she is?

"How do you know her?" I ask curiously.

"How do you not? She's literally the Queen B of Constance Billard..." Well that's news to me. All this time we've been at the same school and I haven't seen her once yet, "...some say that last year she exiled one of her minions from New York because they bought the same handbag as her. I'm not sure how true that is, but I wouldn't put it past her." Jenny replies.

I let out a disbelieving laugh, "She has minions?"

"Uh-yeah. What part of Queen B did you not understand?" Jenny says it like I'm an idiot.

"Well I'm sorry if I don't care too much for High School politics."

"You should know her dimwit. She literally goes to your school."

"She goes to Constance Billard...for girls. And I go to ...for boys..." I justify more to myself than Jenny really, "...dimwit. And also, aren't you starting at Constance on Monday?"

"Yes!" Jenny says excitedly.

"Oh God. Please don't tell me you're planning on becoming one of her minions."

"That's exactly what I'm planning." Jenny smirks.

"Yeah and before long you're going to be the next person she exiles from New York." I shake my head.

Jenny's about to reply when my phone starts ringing. Shit! It's my dad. I step out the noisy café and into the buildings reception area to take the call.

"Hey, Dad." I say in the most 'keep-cool' voice I possibly can.

"Hey, son. I'm just calling to let you know that I might be home a little later than expected but make sure Jenny gets to bed early tonight okay. Her first day's on Monday and she has to start getting into a routine." My dad replies.

"Okay, dad."

"Thanks Dan, see you."

"Bye, dad." I reply and shut the phone.

It's kinda difficult to see your dad sitting with another woman that's not your mom, but it's even more difficult to hear him tell you that he's going to spend the night with her. I dig my hands into my pockets and look at the ceiling above. I can't possibly tell Jenny what he just told me. She'll put two and two together as fast as I did and it'll probably break her.

"Daniel Randolph Jonah Humphrey? No. It can't be?" A voice says sarcastically and I know exactly who it is.

I drop my head to look at her and that's it. I'm done for. She's donning this stupid little smile with her hand on her hip, her hair is falling flatly against her shoulders this time and oh, that cute little beanie. My lips can't help but corner up as she makes her way closer to me.

"Oh, but it is. The one and only." I reply with faux smugness.

She's a rulers length away from me now as she looks up into my eyes, "Is it true?"

"Is what true?" My eyebrows furrow.

"That you've crossed the seven seas, climbed the highest mountains and defeated the strongest armies, all just to find me?"

I can't help but chuckle, "Not exactly, but I did cross a river, climb a curb and died in battle against my 14 year old sister...so I guess it's sort of the same thing?"

She laughs a laugh that I wish I could hear for forever and a day.

"Oh, well however it's come, I'm glad you found me." She then says.

"Technically, you're the one who's found me."

"Ahh, so you weren't lying when you affirmed that us seeing more of each other would entail more of you correcting me."

"Honesty is indeed my blessing and my curse."

"So what does bring you here actually?"

"It's a long story." I let out an unintentional sigh.

"Can't be as bad as mine." She remarks and my eyes widen.

"And what's yours?"

"Well that's no fair now is it Humphrey. You've got to tell me and then I'll tell you."

"Humphrey? Really? Out of all 4 of my names, you decide to use that one?" I chuckle.

"Yes. And just because you've expressed your immediate dislike for it, I think I'll keep using it from now onwards."

"Okay fine. Then Waldorf it is."

"And unlike you, I actually like my surname." She sticks her tongue out at me and I can feel the flutters in my chest going crazy.

"There's no winning with you is there?"

"Nope, not at all." She says and then moves past me and walks towards the café. She then turns back around and looks at me, "Come on, are we going to sit down at this café and vent our problems to one another or not?"

I don't think anyone has ever made me laugh this much in my life. Being around her just makes everything feel so...easy. I walk towards her and she's holding the door open for me.

"You're a true gentleman." I quip.

"Shut up!" She rolls her eyes.

As we step inside I turn around to face her again, "My sister's here too but I don't think she'll mind sitting alone."

"What? No. We can all sit together." She replies and I swear my heart melts.

"Okay, but just a warning, she's kind of a fan."

"And you're not?" Her eyebrow arches and she walks past me.

I just shake my head in laughter as I follow her through the café and towards Jenny. She's the one to turn around in the middle of our walk this time and she asks, "What's your sister's name?"

"Jenny. Jenny Humphrey." I reply and she turns on her heels again.

We get to Jenny and she immediately makes her presence known.

"Hi, I'm Blair Waldorf." She holds out her hand.

My sister looks like she's just seen one of her favorite rock band members and I can see she's trying her best not to screech.

"I know." She replies with a huge smile as she shakes Blair's hand.

"And you're Jenny Humphrey right?"

I'm not sure if I've ever seen someone's mouth open as wide as Jenny's just did and I can't help but laugh. She's worse than me!

"How did you know?" Jenny asks.

"Your brother here told me." Her eyes point to me.

"You know him?" Jenny's mouth falls agape again.

"Him? Unfortunately Jenny, I do." She sighs jokingly.

"Okay, okay. Can we sit now?" I finally say.

Blair takes my stool and sits between Jenny and I. She then orders a hot chocolate for herself and wow, she looks way more captivating under the dimmed lights of a cosy café than the grand chandeliers of a ballroom party. She speaks to Jenny for a few minutes as Jenny tells her all about her starting at Constance on Monday. She then assures Jenny that she'll make sure nothing happens to her and my heart warms up entirely. Jen then snaps a selfie of the two of them and as she busy's herself on her phone, probably trying to post the picture, Blair turns to me.

"Hey." She whispers cutely.

"Do I finally get a chance to speak to you now?" I chuckle.

"Yes, but it's gotta be quick. I've got more important things to attend to behind me..." She smiles warmly, "...so go on. Tell me."

My eyes face down at the table and I let out a breath first before I say, "Well you see, the whole summer my mom's been in Hudson and my dad's been here with us. And Jenny and I, we've been suspicious of the whole situation but then tonight my dad went out and Jenny tracked him down, with my help of course, and we found him at a café a few blocks away sitting with another woman. So yeah, I guess that just gave us the closure for something that has been so obvious for so long already. Jenny was really upset though and I couldn't take her home until she felt better so we came here just to get a hot chocolate before we face reality again."

"I'm sorry." She says with so much sincerity. As if she understands exactly what I'm feeling.

"You don't have to be. It's not your fault."

"You're a really good brother."

"I try to be..." I look up at her and our eyes dance for a second, "...it's your turn to tell."

"Oh yes..." She straightens herself, "...so it turns out last nights ballroom party was the last one that house will ever host."

"What? Why?"

"You see Humphrey, where your parents are obvious, my parents are not-so-obvious. For the past 3 months they've been planning their divorce, and last nights party was basically a farewell to our home. A going away party of some sort. The house was sold a week ago, this morning my dad left to France to be with the man he really loves and tonight my mom and I are moving into the penthouse of this building. And the messed up part is that I only found out all of this when my parents came into the library last night while we were in there. They came in to tell me."

I'm not quite sure what to say to her. I mean, I understand exactly what she's going through but at the same time, I can't relate at all. So instead of faking understanding, I step off the stool and wrap my arms around her as warmly and as tightly as I can. She digs her face into my neck and she drapes her arms around my waist. I look over at Jenny and she looks confused but she doesn't say anything. I can feel one or two tear drops escaping Blair's eyes and into my neck but that's all she lets out and she comes out of the embrace. She wipes her eyes tidily and sets her posture straight again, but all it tells me is that she feels vulnerable and she's putting some walls up. Walls that I'm too scared to break right now.

"Are you okay?" I ask softly.

"Yes." She replies unconvincingly.

I look down at my phone to check the time. 10:45pm.

"Shit, I completely lost track of the time." I say as I get up hurriedly.

Blair's eyebrows furrow as she looks up at me, "You have to go?" There's a hint of worry in her eyes and it's breaking my heart.

"Yeah, my dad's gonna be home soon and he's gonna blow a gasket if we're not there when he gets back. I'm so sorry."

"No, it's okay." She looks down and my heart sinks.

"Uhh...come on Jen, let's go." Jenny gets up, greets Blair and walks towards the door.

I stay behind for a sec, "Will you be okay alone here?" I ask Blair.

"I live in the building Humphrey. Don't worry about me." She rolls her eyes and it relieves me a little that her sassy side has made a reappearance.

"Okay, well, I guess I'll see you around then."

She looks up at me immediately but doesn't say anything for a moment, but then she says nervously, "Uhm...maybe...maybe I should give you my number so you can let me know when you get home? For safety measures of course."

"Yeah..." I chuckle, "...for 'safety measures'." I take out my phone and hand it to her.

She punches the number in quickly and hands the phone back to me. She then hops off of her stool and with her tippy toes she rises to drape her arms warmly around my neck to pull me into an embrace. It's turning into the best feeling I've ever felt in my entire life. Her arms around my neck. We hug each other tightly almost like we're the only things keeping each other together. The blissful moment ends and I head out the café. My heart is absolutely thudding and Jenny just keeps laughing because she knows I'm a goner. We climb into a cab and I'm so anxious to get home just to call her. The drive feels like it goes on for forever but we do finally get home and I race upstairs, into the loft and onto my bed. I dial her number and it hardly gets a chance to ring and she's already answered it.

"Hey." She says and I can hear her smiling.

"Hey." Now I'm smiling.

"You're safe?"

"I'm safe, thanks."

"Your dad home?"

"Not yet."

"Okay, good."

"You okay?" I ask.

"Humphrey..." I can just picture her eyes rolling, "...you've got to stop worrying about me."

"That's like asking me to stop blinking - it's impossible."

She chuckles and I love it, "Well I'm gonna head to bed now. Hopefully it won't take news of our parents divorcing to get us to see each other again."

I'm the one chuckling now, "You love being corrected don't you?"

"I guess it's just a quirk of yours that I'll have to bear for the greater good." She sighs jokingly.

"The greater good? And what might that be?"

"Goodnight now Daniel Randolph Jonah Humphrey." She says quickly and laughs.

"Goodnight Blair Cornelia Paige Waldorf." I say with an idiotic smile beaming from my face and then I shut the phone.

Tonight I go sleep and it's a complete antonym to that of what I slept like last night. There's a warm feeling that's enraptured my heart and I can't seem to wipe this stupid smile off of my face. I'm sure it follows me all the way into my dreams. There's a sense of comfort surrounding this stranger now. And I guess it comes from the fact that she's no longer a stranger anymore. But then again, it never felt like she ever was...


	3. Summer Lovin'.

**Summer Lovin'.**

If the weather continues acting in accordance with my day-to-day moods then New York, be prepared for snowflakes falling into your slushies next summer. It's Sunday and sun rays are literally scoping through my window panes and damn near burning holes into my skin. I mean, I know summer days are associated with bliss and nirvana and all other things where happiness is concerned, but am I that happy that the seasonal change into colder days has skipped all the gears and went straight into reverse? Bringing us all right back into the warmer weather? Well, maybe not, but I'd like to think my feelings has had such an effect nonetheless. Mmm,  _ 'my feelings'. _ I chuckle even thinking about them. It's absurd how your tummy does summersaults when you feel a certain way about someone. How your throat catches and your breath hitches. How your lips corner and your eyes twinkle. Our bodies tell the stories of our feelings better than words ever could. I turn on my bed to move out the sun's glare and just as I sit up and plant my feet on the ground, my phone rings. I don't think I've ever grabbed at it this fast before.

"Hello?" I say quickly.

"Humphrey!" Her voice always calls for the response of a smile from my lips, "What are you doing today?"

"Waldorf..." I chuckle, "...the day's just begun, so I still need to figure it out." I say as I wipe my sleepy eyes.

"Well save your brain from the strenuous task of thinking because I've already planned your day out for you."

"Oh, that's very thoughtful of you." My head shakes in laughter.

"It's never an issue..." She teases, "...text me your address and I'll be at your place in the next hour. Ciao ciao." I try to interject and ask her what it is we're actually doing but she ends the call abruptly.

I resort to texting:

**_Where are we going? What are we doing?_ **

**_-Dan_ **

**_That's an odd address._ **

**_-Blair_ **

**_Haha, very funny_ ** .  **_Come on, I'm serious Waldorf._ **

**_-Dan_ **

**_Someone's cranky in the morning. Don't worry about it, it's super innocent. Just get done Humphrey...and send me the damn address!_ **

**_-Blair_ **

I just roll my eyes and let out a laugh because I know there's no way I'm going to win with her. Ever. But as I type out my address in the text box, there's these weird feelings that pop up out of nowhere. It comes after I type  _ Brooklyn _ , but after a few seconds of hesitation, I shrug the feeling off. There's no need to be embarrassed of living in Brooklyn. Especially if it's the gentrified part. Unless of course my embarrassment stems from a moral compass that rebukes gentrification, then I have all the right to be embarrassed. I finally send the text off and get out of bed to head into a shower. As I walk out my room though I'm met by someone who I'd much rather not see today.

"Hey, son." My dad smiles at me.

"Hey." I say awkwardly through my teeth.

"You're up early?"

"Yeah, I was gonna get into a shower and then ask you if I could go out?"

"Out? A day before school?" My dad's eyebrows furrow.

"Well, I haven't really gone anywhere the entire summer because of the catering, so I was hoping you'd understand?" I bite my teeth.

"What time will you be back?"

"Before 6?"

"5 and you've got to do the dishes tonight."

Relief washes over me, "Okay, thanks."

I brush past my dad and head to the bathroom. I manage to shower, get dressed and eat breakfast all within 45 minutes. My dad hands me some cash and before long I'm standing on the sidewalk outside the loft, waiting patiently. Throughout my wait though I fully expect a limousine to pull up to the curb, but instead a cab does and the back window rolls down. She's sitting on the seat farthest from the curb but she leans forward and lowers her sunglasses to look up at me with a cheeky smile. I bend down to return it.

"Hey." I can't understand how she always manages to say that so soft and cutely.

"Hey." I think my cheeks might actually be turning red.

We both just look at each other for an awkward yet comfortable few seconds, nearly laughing at each other before she says, "Are you getting in or are we going to stare at each other like this the entire day?"

"I don't mind the second option." I smirk.

"It wasn't an option..." She chuckles, "...get in Humphrey."

I do as requested. Once I'm sitting next to her I can feel my heart trying its best to escape from my chest but it calms down when she speaks again, giving the cab driver the address to the next destination.

"So do I now get to know where we're going?" I ask.

"Did you not just hear?" She asks sarcastically.

My eyes roll out of actual irritability and she probably senses it because she then says in a sigh, "If you must know, I need to go get my stationery for school and I didn't wanna go alone."

"So our first date is stationery shopping?" My eyebrows furrow as I chuckle.

"If you think this counts as our first date Humphrey then our second date will be nonexistent." She says through a straight face.

"I'm kidding." I let out a laugh as I put my arm around her shoulder to bring her into me.

"Was that your way of asking me out though?" She whispers with her cheek pressed against my chest.

My eyes look down to her, "If you think I'll ask you out like that, you're terribly mistaken."

Her baring teeth that formulates from a wholesome smile tells me all I need to know. I wonder if she realizes that in a few seconds we've both just indirectly said to each other that we want each other  _ like that.  _ The driver begins his route to the destination and Blair stays huddled up in my neck. The ride to the stationery store is mostly silent as I draw circles on her shoulder. It's crazy how comfortable we've become in a matter of just three days. I wish we could just stay like this forever but to my dismay the cab comes to a halt and we have to get out. As we step onto the concrete sidewalk she grabs my hand and guides us both into the store in front of us. I've never gotten butterflies whilst walking into a stationery store before but I guess there's a first for everything right? The first thing she grabs at is a trolley and then rolls it my way, giving me my first job of the day. She then pulls on the front of the trolley, guiding me and it to the pens and pencils' aisle.

"Okay Humphrey..." She commands as she stares over the vast selection of inks, "...it's a long year so I'm going to need at least 20 blue-ink pens, 20 black-ink pens and three of every color-ink pens."

"That's a gracious amount of pens." I chuckle.

"Rather have them and not need them than need them and not have them." She tells me as she starts throwing pens into the trolley.

She works quickly and within seconds all the necessary amount of writing tools are in the trolley. She then tugs on it again and pulls us to another aisle. This one is filled with marker pens. Here she doesn't even bother to say anything as she starts piling the markers up into the trolley. Soon enough that's done too and we march off to the next aisle which is racked with all the things needed for writing, from folio pads to notebooks. She takes a stack of 10 folio pads, 10 notebooks and 10 A3 poster pads. As we stride through the aisle for Blair to scope for other things, I see a little leather covered diary book and I have to have it. I pick it up and the most appealing part is the leather straps that's tied into a knot to keep the book closed. As I get a feel of it Blair looks my way.

"I had a feeling you might be the type to have a diary." She says with tease in her voice.

"I actually don't have a diary." I defend.

"So a new hobby then?"

"Nope." I chuckle.

"Wait...you draw don't you?"

"If stick figures and scribbles out of frustration counts as drawing then yes, I draw."

"Then what's it for?" She asks impatiently.

"I don't think someone has ever been this eager to know why I'm interested in buying a little diary." I chuckle.

"That's because most people are oblivious to all the secret thoughts and unpopular ideas that stem from diary entries, but I'm not most people. So tell me Humphrey, what are you planning on hiding behind those leather covers?" She smiles cheekily.

"It's nothing..." I smile nervously, "... it's stupid."

"Oh, I don't disagree with that analysis, but I'd still like to know." She quips.

"It's nothing, really."

"The more you say it's nothing the more I know it's very much something. You don't have to keep secrets from me Humphrey and since you say it's not for diary use, that vacancy entails you do still need something...or  _ someone _ to tell all your thoughts, feelings and problems to."

"Why do you even wanna know so badly?" I laugh disbelievingly.

She moves from her position in front of the trolley and comes to me who's standing behind it. Her eyes suddenly dance with mine and it's like she's trying to read my mind. I'm not sure how but those brown sparkles evoke a deep sense of care that I've never experienced yet. She lays her hands flatly against my chest before she says,

"Because I wanna know  _ you.  _ I wanna know everything there is to know about you. Friday night I hardly slept and it had nothing to do with my parents divorce. You and I were strangers to each other and I hated it, because in just a few moments with you, you made me laugh, you made me smile, you made me nervous and you definitely made me feel like the only girl in your world. And even if that last part's not entirely true, the feeling alone is extremely addictive." Her eyes dart downwards now and I'm guessing she feels a little embarrassed for letting off so much. How could I not tell her what this little diary is for after hearing all that?

"Poetry."

She looks up again with furrowed eyebrows, "What?"

"That's the purpose of this book, it's for poetry."

"You write poems?"

"Mm-hmm." I nod my head.

"That's cute." She smiles warmly.

"You're cute." I return the warm smile.

"Now was that so difficult?"

"Was what so difficult?"

"Opening up to me."

"Sorry, some things just feel a little stupid to tell people. Especially writing."

"Well I love reading so don't ever feel ashamed about that around me okay?"

"Okay."

Secure. That's the simplest yet most profound way I could describe the way I'm feeling right now. Her hands tie behind my neck and she brings me in for an embrace that encompasses affirmation and assurance. It's almost as though it's her way of trying to cause cracks in the walls I have built up around my true self. But I'm sure as hell if things continue in this fashion I'll be telling this stranger my deepest secrets, my weirdest thoughts and even the passcodes to all my online profiles. She drops off her toes and onto her heels, bringing her hands to my chest again with her eyes fixated on mine. My heart is slamming against my chest and by the quick look down to her hand over it and the small smile that follows, I can tell she feels the slams. I can't help the smile of embarrassment that etches on my face. But instead of making fun of me, she runs her hands up my torso, onto my neck and across my jaw to stroke my cheek. This feeling is awfully familiar, but I'm making a promise to myself right now that if she licks her lips I'm not even going to hesitate to pelt myself forward. I'm aching to taste those lips. She then swallows a nervous lump as she brings her other hand to my other cheek and I'm ruing the limitations of that promise to myself. But her tongue does eventually make a slight slip over her bottom lip and I nearly hop out my skin to get down to her but just as my nose hits hers, the store's intercom goes off,

"The young couple in aisle 7 - don't even think about it." The voice of most likely an old lady beams through the entire store.

Our heads both drop against each other's and we can't help but laugh in embarrassment as the whole store now knows the young couple in aisle 7 were doing something that they probably shouldn't. At least we got a few eskimo kisses in, so I guess not all is lost. Blair pulls away and she scrunches her nose up at me as if to say:  _ better luck next time.  _ She then grabs on the trolley and hurries us both to the cashier.

"Come on, before the other customers come flocking to see who the PDA perpetrators are." She prompts.

As we get to the cashier my presumptions deem true as it is in fact an old lady who stopped us over the intercom. She doesn't look quite impressed by us but Blair's hardly fazed as she drops her items onto the cashier table faster than the lady can scan them. All her items get scanned eventually though but once the cashier asks if that's everything, Blair grabs my diary out my hand and plants it in the lady's hand and before I can even protest, the barcode is already beeped into the computer. Blair just sends a mischievous smile my way and then hands the lady a credit card to pay for everything. All the items are then put in two carrier bags and I insist on carrying them both. We walk out the store and the air outside is substantially warmer than it was earlier this morning.  _ And this morning was hot. _ Blair puts her sunglasses back on as her curls bounce on her shoulders while the gentle wind plays at the ends of her yellow sundress. Be it glamorous evening parties, sulky café nights or blissful summer mornings, she somehow manages to grace through the nuance of every setting, always looking so effortlessly beautiful. We walk closer to the road so she can hail a cab.

"You didn't have to do that you know." I say.

"Do what?" She plays dumb.

"You know what."

"It was only 10 dollars Humphrey, it's not a big deal."

"Yeah, but do you really feel comfortable buying things for someone you hardly know?"

"I think that question was answered in aisle 7 already." She chuckles.

I just shake my head, "Thanks though, I really appreciate it."

"Don't mention it." She semi-demands.

"So, where to now?"

"To a bookstore. I need to update my shelves."

Excitement courses through my veins and it's a futile task to try and conceal it, "So do I. I literally read everything I have at home."

"I was thinking of getting into another Fitzgerald book but I'm undecided."

"Talking about Fitzy, you actually spoiled The Great Gatsby for me you know."

"How so?"

"That whole spooky entrance of yours at the party where you told me Jay Gatsby found out how grotesque a rose is during his dying breath."

"Humphrey, the Great Gatsby was published in 1925. Literally everyone knows the ending before they've read the book." Her eyes roll.

"Fair enough, but I could've been the anomaly."

She places a hand on my shoulder and sighs, "You taking so long to actually read the book makes you enough of an anomaly as it stands, Humphrey."

I swear if anyone else were to tease me the way she does I would count it as definite bullying, but her voice is too small and tender for me to even take offense. I think I might just let her bully me for the rest of my life. Her hand leaves my shoulder and then waves for a cab. We then get into one and before long we're standing outside a vintage bookstore that looks like a place where witches and wizards come to mix potions together. As we step inside a bell above the door rings and our presence is made apparent. A man behind the cash register sends a bright smile our way and we return it. The store looks really cool with all the dark tones of wood, the little stairway that leads to an even smaller balcony where more books are piled up, and even the screeching floors that add to the aesthetic appeal of the place. Another thing that stands out is the fact that all the books are hardcovers. Blair and I walk slowly through the aisles as she scopes over the books. I try to focus my attention on the books around me but her attentive eyes that lay over each title are grabbing at me. Her lips pout in ponder as she chews her chin over several of the books, but after a few minutes her eyes light up as she grabs one of them off the shelf. I peep over to see the name of the book _ \- Anna Karenina. _

"That's deemed to be one of the best pieces of literature ever written." I comment.

"I know, and I've never even read it yet." She says.

"Mmm, and you say I'm an anomaly for not reading Gatsby."

"So you've read this already?" She turns to me.

"Of course, it's one of my favorites."

"Okay, I think I'll be taking it." She states, "Have you seen anything you like yet?"

"Yes, I think I have." My eyes point to her.

Her eyes roll, "I'm talking about the books."

"Oh..." I chuckle, "...I haven't really been looking."

"Well, get on with it Humphrey, we don't have all day."

She turns me around and pushes on my shoulders to guide me through the bookstore. Nothing seems to capture my attention because I continuously break the golden rule of being a reader as I literally judge all the books by their covers, but there is one book in a section that I never look through that grabs at my eyes. It's called  _ The Motion of Light in Water  _ by Samuel R. Delaney. It's an autobiography but it looks promising. I don't bother to read the first few pages to get a glimpse of what I might be reading because by the title alone I already feel like I'm going to enjoy this book very much. Blair looks at me with confused eyes because she herself has never seen nor heard of this book before. Nevertheless, we make our way to the guy behind the cash register and before Blair can swing out her credit card, I place the cash my dad gave me on the counter and luckily the cashier takes it quickly and within seconds I'm getting my change for the purchases. As we step out the bookstore I make a concerted effort not to look at Blair because I know her eyes are going to be stabbing through my body multiple times for doing what I just did.

"Thank you." She says softly but the words explode in my ears. That's the last thing I expected her to say.

"You're not mad?" I turn to look at her.

"Oh no, I am. Especially because you got mad at me for buying you that diary. But I guess my gratitude overpowers my anger today."

I let out a relieving breath that I didn't even know I was keeping in, "Well, I'm grateful for your gratitude."

"Oh, shut up." She says playfully as she brushes past me to hail for another cab.

"And the next destination is?"

"A restaurant. I'm starving."

* * *

We're finally settling into a restaurant of Blair's choice and it seems like for the first time today I actually get a real chance to take a good look at the magnitude of flawless perfection that is . I've tried to find kinks in her to take myself out of the dizzy high she's put me in with her intelligence, beauty and humor, but by now I'm sure if those little things do ever appear, it'll only make my head spin even more. Today I found out how much ahead of the rest of the world she is. How she plans ten paces farther than any of us ever strive to. And I'm not talking about the ridiculous amounts of stationery she bought. As we stepped into the restaurant she ordered a table for 4 when we're clearly only two people, but once we got to the table she set the carrier bags on the vacant seats beside us. That was something so minute, so minuscule but it was something I didn't even think of nor take into account before we came to sit down. But she did. Even in the cab rides over to every different place she was ticking off little things in her little planner. Right now even, as we literally speak, she lays a napkin over her sundress, removes the rings from her fingers and takes off the bracelets from her wrists all because she's about to eat. She's so calculated and it's mesmerizing. Now it's not so difficult to understand why Jenny literally idolizes her. I mean, she's got every single thing figured out.

"You're doing it again." Her cheeks go red.

I snap out of it, "Doing what?"

"You're looking at me with those wildly intense eyes, Humphrey."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"How do you do that?"

"I'm not sure actually, my mind just drifts off and I'm not really aware that I start staring at things."

"So what's on your mind then?"

"You." I say without even thinking.

The response takes her by complete surprise as her cheeks are impossibly getting redder now. She swallows a lump before saying, "Oh." That's all she can manage.

"Don't worry, I won't go into much detail about my thoughts of you, unless you want me to of course." I joke.

"No it's not that, it's just..." She stutters her speech for the first time ever in front of me.

"It's just..?" I lower my voice.

"I've never felt so...so wanted before. It's relieving yet anxiety inducing all at the same time."

I'm the one who's taken by surprise now and I can't even get a word out to her. I don't think even in my wildest of dreams I've ever thought I'll make someone feel this way, let alone someone like Blair Cornelia Paige Waldorf. Yet here we are and she's saying these are things I'm doing. And it's in this split second that I realize how powerful feelings are. For if two people hold a strong affection for one another it's almost as though they're pumping boundless jolts of possibility into the other's lives. And with Blair, anything feels possible.

"Humphrey..." She groans at me.

"I'm sorry." I laugh.

"Do you know how you look at me when you're mind drifts off like that?"

"How do I look at you, Waldorf?"

"The way all girls want to be looked at."

I nearly fall into another speechless stare but then I remember I've heard those words before, "Okay, Fitzgerald." I joke.

She laughs ecstatically, "You so ruined that moment!"

"I had to, it was getting more intense than my stares."

As we laugh in what feels like eternal euphoria a ray of sunlight catches her eyes through a restaurant window and it creates a twinkle brighter than any star I've ever seen. Her smile beams so much light that it sends an everlasting joy into my heart and as her eyes close to stop the tears of her laughter, I fall back against my chair and I'm dumbstruck by how gorgeous she looks when she seems truly happy. I wonder if it's too early to feel a feeling I've never ever felt for a stranger who I've never ever known before 3 days ago. But like I say, with Blair anything feels possible. A waiter comes and interrupts the bliss to take our order. Blair takes a pasta and I order a steak. As we wait for our food, she tells me her plans for the academic year ahead, her high hopes, her strong ambitions and its just another fascination of herself that's she's etching onto my mind. The food finally comes and it's the first time today where there's a few moments of just pure silence between us. My guess is that we're both either extremely hungry or the food is just absolutely scrumptious. The latter seems more plausible. Soon enough we're done eating though and this time we split the cost of things between us.

We then step out of the restaurant and hail for the last cab of the day back to my Brooklyn loft, and somehow I conjure up the slightest bit of courage to grab on her hand and intertwine our fingers. Our fingers stay like that from the moment we step into a cab together all the way until we get to Brooklyn. Once we're outside the loft she lets go of my hand and my heart drops, but it settles again once I see that she's just stepping out of the cab. I get out too as she comes walking around the trunk of the car. She's standing almost against my chest now and she looks up at me with searching eyes. I know what she's looking for though and I don't hesitate to cup her cheeks. My thumbs play on the frames of her facial structure and our eyes waltz as every single feeling that today has conjured up comes flooding through me. I lower my head to meet her lips with mine and as her eyes shut in anticipation and mine shut in ecstasy, the voice of Rufus Humphrey travels agonizingly from across the street.

"Hey, son!"

Both mine and Blair's eyes shoot open and she's trying her hardest not to laugh, "Let's just pretend we never heard anything." I whisper desperately.

She takes my hands off of her face, "I'm not kissing you in front of your dad." She smiles in half-laughter.

"He's not my dad." I try again.

"Dan! Is that you?" My dad shouts again and my head literally drops.

"The world hates me doesn't it?" I say to Blair.

"Yes, yes it does." She laughs and then rises on her tippy toes to plant a kiss on my cheek.

I finally turn to my dad and he's got his usual annoying, fatherly smile on his face. He finally gets close enough for me to actually greet him.

"Hey, Dad."

"Ah, you're home an hour early. That's good." He looks at me and then his eyes dart to Blair next to me, "And who's this new friend of yours?"

Luckily Blair introduces herself, "Hi , I'm Blair Waldorf." She puts her hand out.

"Oh, nice to meet you Blair." My dad says and I silently pray that that's the last words that escape his mouth.

It looks like my prayers may go unanswered but just as my dad is about to probably say something embarrassing, the cab driver honks his horn.

"Well I guess that's my cue." Blair says sheepishly, "It was nice meeting you ."

"Likewise, dear." My dad replies.

Blair then turns to me, "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"I'll see you tomorrow." I affirm.

She then climbs in the cab and I close the door behind her. Her window rolls down before she leaves though and she hands me my book and diary.

"Text me when you get home safely." I tell her.

"Yes, I will." She replies.

Once her cab's driven off I turn to my dad and try my best to keep my head from blowing off.

"Thanks, dad!" I say sarcastically.

"What?" He replies confusedly.

"You literally interrupted a  _ moment _ when you came shouting at me from across the street."

His eyebrows furrow for a second, "Oh... _ oh.  _ I'm so sorry son, I didn't even know you were standing with someone."

"No, that's a mistake that needs reparations, and a relief of one week from doing the dishes sounds fair enough to me." I try my luck.

"You'll be relieved of dishes duty for tonight only." He laughs as he puts his arm over my shoulders to guide us into the loft.

I don't protest his unfair labour practices though because that's more slack from him than I was expecting. Once we get into the loft I head straight to my room, drop the two books onto my bedside table and fall exhaustedly upon my bed. Who knew having fun would be so tiring? Probably every other normal teenager that has a stimulating social circle. As my eyes droop though my phone buzzes in my pocket. There's no way Blair's made it home that quickly has she? But it's not a message from Blair that has my phone buzzing.

**_Hey Upper East Siders. I know summer's coming to an end but I've just received the hottest news ever. According to Melanie91, our very own Serena Van Der Woodsen was spotted with bags in hand at Grand Central. Wasn't it just last year when our golden girl went missing for "boarding school"? And just when the summer was looking dryer than ever, she's back. Don't believe me? See for yourselves. Thanks for the photo Mel._ **

**_Xoxo, Gossip Girl._ **

**...**


End file.
